by Willow Rose
With my heart still pounding in my chest, I sat on the bed and stared at Victor for almost an hour before I finally decided to go back to sleep.
The next morning, Victor seemed just like he usually did. There was no more bleeding and no more weird staring. We ate breakfast on the balcony while the ship was cruising the Mediterranean Sea. We weren't going to be in Sicily until the next morning, according to the plan, and with the delay from yesterday, we were probably going to arrive very late. Hopefully we would be there at lunchtime, so there still was time to explore the island. There was only scheduled sightseeing for one day before the ship left Italy and moved on to Malta.
My mom and dad joined us later and we ate together. It made me feel good…To have my family close like this. Well, most of it anyway. I couldn't stop thinking about Maya and how I would have loved to have her with us.
"So what are you guys up to today?" my dad asked.
"I was thinking we'd explore the ship a little. Maybe hit the pool on the upper deck later on. Have a cocktail and lie in the sun. What about you?"
"I'd love to go in the pool," Christoffer said. "You want to come with me, Victor?"
Victor nodded without looking up.
"Same here," my dad said. "Your mother wants to look at the stores on the middle deck. There's a Victoria's Secret that she wants us to explore. Then we'll hit the pool as well."
I chuckled. My mom looked at me.
"What? Can't I dress in nice lingerie for my husband just because I'm old?"
"No. No. I mean, of course you can. That's none of my business. It's just really hard to picture your mother…never mind," I said, emptied my coffee and finished my croissant.
"We'll probably join you at the pool around noon," my dad continued. "Maybe we should have lunch up there? I hear there’s a restaurant that serves the best seafood while you overlook the ocean."
"Sounds like a plan," I said and smiled. I looked at Victor, who was reading his book at the table. The night's strange events still lingered with me and gave me an eerie feeling, but I decided to shake it and move on.
"Meet you at the pool in about two hours, then?" My dad said and got up from his chair.
"See you then."
27
April 2014
EXPLORING THE SHIP wasn't too much fun with Victor. He didn't want to go into any of the shops and didn't like the many people constantly crowding everywhere we went. I should have known. He never liked being among a lot of people. I still dragged him and Christoffer through all the stores aboard and ended up buying Christoffer a truck and Victor a book about Pompeii, just to make it up to them. Also, I hoped Victor would stop reading the other book that apparently had made a little too great of an impression on him and given him the nightmares.
Once he got the book, he went silent. He studied the pictures and indulged himself in the stories, while I tried on dresses and bought all kinds of knick-knacks for Maya that I knew she was never going to like. I bought a new cologne for Morten and a very expensive shirt.
When I had enough, we went back to the suite and placed all the bags in the living room, then found our swimsuits and put them on. Victor didn't seem as thrilled to go as Christoffer. It wasn't that he didn't like to go swimming. As a matter of fact, he loved to swim. It was one of the few sports he really enjoyed. No, he was worried about the amount of people and other children in and around the pool. He was worried about how crowded and loud they were going to be. He liked his space and he was very sensitive to loud sounds.
"You ready?" I asked, when he came out from the bathroom in his new swim shorts that I had just bought him. "They look great on you, buddy. They fit just perfect, huh?"
"Yeah, Victor," Christoffer said. "I can't wait to get in the pool. It's huge. There’s a waterslide and everything."
I grabbed my bag with sunscreen and towels and a book for myself and opened the door. Victor walked out, while hugging his new book, holding it to his chest like he was afraid someone was going to steal it from him. I was glad I had found something that made him happy and taken his eyes off of Lewis Carroll's Through the Looking-Glass. It was back in Christoffer's room where it belonged.
We found a nice spot by the pool and I was thrilled to see that we were among the first there. Only three other children were playing in the children's area. An older couple was swimming laps. A woman was enjoying the sun, while her husband seemed to be annoyed to be there.
Victor and Christoffer jumped in the pool and I threw my body in a lounger pretending to read my book, but really dozing off. I hadn't slept much after the strange incident with Victor. I woke up when Victor came running towards me and sat on my chair with his wet shorts.
"Huh?" I said and opened my eyes. I smiled when I saw Victor sitting at the foot of my chair. "Did you have fun?"
He nodded and sniffled. I felt good. The nap helped. Christoffer waved from the top of the slide. I waved back.
"There you are."
I lifted my head and looked at my dad who was standing next to me, flanked by my mother in a very expensive-looking bathing suit. Her body still looked amazing after all the work she had done, except now she had some scars on her thighs where they had taken the skin that they used to repair her face. My dad had his arm around her. He looked more like an ordinary Dane. A little overweight with very, very pale legs. He was wearing socks with his sandals.
"So, did you get some shopping done?" I asked.
"Well, it was hard with all the people," my mother said and sat down on the lounge chair next to mine. "They were looking for a girl, you know."
"No. I didn't know. What girl is that?"
"Some teenager who was last seen dancing at one of the nightclubs last night. She was very drunk, they all say, and left with some guy. They can't find him either. They fear that they both might have fallen overboard. The parents are freaking out. I saw them on the upper deck talking to the captain when we went back with our stuff. They actually live in the suite right next to ours. Mr. and Mrs. Alessandrino. I talked to them briefly. They said the girl never went out at night. That she was in her bed when they went to sleep last night. But surveillance cameras from the nightclub show her dancing with this guy. It's all very strange."
"Ah, it's nothing," my dad said. "They probably got too drunk and ended up crashing somewhere. They'll both turn up later today. Just wait and see."
I looked at Victor who was sitting very still while drops of water dripped on my lounge-chair. I wondered if he knew anything…If him waking up in the middle of the night had anything to do with the disappearance of the two.
"Well, we said the same about Alberto Colombo, didn't we?" I asked. "We thought he'd show up too. And he didn't. He hasn't been found yet."
"That's different," my dad said. "The dad went nuts and killed both of them. He's not onboard anymore."
I grunted, dissatisfied. I didn't like this one bit. Something was very wrong on this boat.
"Photo?"
I looked up through my sunglasses and spotted a man in a black jacket. He was holding a Polaroid camera between his hands.
"Excuse me?" I asked.
"Would you like to have your photo taken with your beautiful family?"
"Yes," my mother burst out. She turned to look at my dad and continued in Danish to him. "Wouldn't we dear? I would love to have a picture of all of us from this great vacation."
I stared at the man with the old camera. Who used Polaroid cameras in these days of digital cameras? I wondered. It was odd.
"I don't know, Ulla," my dad growled. "I mean, we're in our swimsuits and everything."
"Ah, come on papa-bear. I saw this guy at the restaurant last night," my mother continued. "Ever since I saw him take a picture of another family, I've wanted to get one for ourselves. But, when I wanted to catch him, he was gone. Do it for me. You too Emma. And Victor. And Christoffer, of course," she said and waved at him to come. He sprang towards us. My mother looked up at the photographer and spoke in English t
o him.
"Take one of all of us."
We all sat very close, surrounding Victor and Christoffer in the middle. The man lifted his camera. "Smile," he said. "Say cheese."
We all smiled and the camera clicked. Then Victor burst into a high-pitched scream. He clapped his ears with both hands and simply screamed. The photographer seemed startled.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"It's not your fault. Victor is a very sensitive boy," I said.
"Okay," the photographer said. He pulled out the photo and let it dry in the air, while I tried to get Victor to calm down. When nothing else helped, I found his book and put it in his lap on a towel, so it wouldn't get wet. Victor immediately stopped screaming. My mom paid the photographer, who took off in a hurry. Christoffer jumped back in the pool.
"You really should learn to control that boy," my mother said. "That was embarrassing."
"He can't help it, Mom. He probably got scared from a sound or something."
"There was no sound," my mother said. "I tell you, that boy isn't normal."
"Ulla, the boy has a condition," my dad started defending me.
"Thank you, Dad. The thing is, we never know why he reacts the way he does. It might be something in his imagination, or maybe he just didn't want to have his picture taken."
"Well then, he should learn to say so. Learn to use his words instead of just screaming. Scared me half to death," my mother snorted.
"Well, it is part of what we're working on with him. We're working with this guy now, trying to teach him some social skills. But Rome wasn't built in a day, Mom. These things take time. And he will never be normal, if that's what you're waiting for," I had to pause to calm myself down. I was getting all worked up. I knew my mother always had a hard time understanding Victor's condition and I often felt like she thought I was the problem.
"Let's get something to eat," my dad said. "I, for one, am starving."
"Me too," I said. "Christoffer! Get out of the pool. We're leaving for lunch now."
As usual, food was our solution to a conflict in my family. It had been for as long as I could remember.
28
April 1982
THE TWINS WERE BACK with the gypsies, who were now the ones that were making a lot of money off of them. Not by having them fight vicious dogs like the police officer had, but by showing them off in the street…in a tent where people had to pay to see the creatures that no one knew whether they were humans or animals.
They had taken them on the road. Living in the back of their trucks. Every day they were in a new town where they would put up their show. And every day, before their show, the gypsies beat up the twins with sticks—not to make them look poor and pitiful like earlier—but to make them angry and aggressive. They put a chain around their necks and tied them up and poked them in the stomach to make them bark and growl at the people.
"Come and see the beast," A man standing outside the tent yelled. "It's as ferocious and ruthless as anything you've ever seen. See it before it kills again. Is it a giant two-headed spider? Is it a monstrous dog? Or are they savages, wild humans ready to attack at any moment you're not paying attention. Come and see for yourself. See the beast. Hear it growl. Watch it as it thirsts for your blood."
The twins were getting increasingly afraid of humans and especially of getting beaten with the sticks, so they did as they were told. They growled and writhed their body, making it look like they were trying to get loose, trying to attack the spectators. They had lost their Italian language, forgotten it since it was never used. Now they only had their mutual language in between them, but even that, they never used anymore, since they almost never spoke to one another. But even if they tried to yell for help, no one understood anything they would say or yell. When they spoke, people laughed and clapped their hands. Some even yelled profanities back at them. They called them names and spat at them.
Creeps.
Freaks.
Monsters.
Mutants.
"Look at their sharp teeth," the gypsies would yell. "Look at their claws. Don't stand too close to them. Those teeth will go straight through your skin and they’ll suck your blood, suck you dry till there is no more left."
The crowd then gasped and pulled away with big eyes and open mouths.
"See what happens when I poke it with my stick, the presenter would say. Then he poked the twins in the stomach and they reacted with a huge roar. The crowd gasped again in fear and fascination. Then the presenter swung the stick and hurt the twins so they whimpered, pulling backwards.
"Down!" he yelled.
The crowd clapped and cheered. It was always the same. Every day for eight hours a day. A new crowd every hour. Once the twins returned to their cage in the back of the truck, they were exhausted…beaten and humiliated enough to crumple up in a corner and not speak a word to one another. They hardly ate and soon became very skinny…Something that made them even scarier to look at.
It wasn't until one night when they were back in Rome after two years on the road that they finally spoke to one another again. The gypsies had parked the truck in a parking lot close to the place they had chosen for their show later in the day. Everyone else was sleeping heavily when the twins both opened their eyes at the same second, like had it been synchronized, or had been planned in advance. For the first time in a long while, they looked into each other's eyes.
"Today, we are twelve years old," one of them said in their mutual language.
"Today, we take back our lives," the other replied.
"I love you."
"I love you more."
29
April 2014
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING? I can't see."
"Don't be impatient, Deedee," the man said. "I don't want to rush this. I want it to be perfect."
"I can't wait. Could you do something about this smell soon? I can't stand this smell," Deedee complained.
"You know that’s my next move."
The man moaned and wiped off drops of sweat from his forehead. He was concentrating very hard right now. Carefully, he sewed the pieces of skin together. On the floor, in a black plastic garbage bag, lay the remains of the girl. She was missing an entire leg, cut off at the points directly below the groin. On the back and front of her chest, the man had cut off big pieces of her skin.
She hadn't suffered. The man didn't want her to. No, she wasn't the one who needed to feel pain. Her parents were. It was never the man's intention to have her feel any pain. He had slit her throat in one quick movement as soon as she started screaming. That had shut her up immediately. Blood had gushed onto the floor and he had hurried to put her body into the plastic bag. He would have to clean up the blood later.
He carried her inside the bag into the bathroom, where he had hung her from her feet inside the shower. With a long-bladed knife, he had cut up her dead body. He started at one corner of the jaw and made a deep ear-to-ear cut through the neck and larynx to the opposite side. This severed the internal and external carotid arteries, the major blood vessels carrying blood from the heart to the head, face, and brain. He had let her hang for a while…Draining her blood and letting it all wash out with the bathwater. Then he had cleaned the skin carefully.
The man had carried the dead body back into the living room of his cabin, then thrown her on another plastic bag so he wouldn’t leave traces on the floor. First he cut off the leg, then later, with a scalpel, he started flaying her in certain spots where he knew the skin was best. Then he had started sewing it.
"Hurry up. Hurry up," Deedee said.
"Patience, mio caro."
The man turned to face the girl again. He kneeled next to her and examined her skin. He found a great spot on her stomach and, with a scalpel, he cut it off. The finest skin was found on the back and abdomen. He was careful to just get the skin. The skin was composed of two layers, an outer thinner one with a thicker tissue layer below it. He only needed the outer layer. Carefully and precisely, he flayed the pi
eces he needed. Then, he cleaned the piece of skin of blood and meat in the bathroom and sterilized it. Then he went back to his needle and thread. With a strong wrist and firm hand, he put the needle through the skin and sewed the piece onto another one.
"What are you doing now?" Deedee asked.
"I’ve finished the leg. Now I'm repairing the other one. It needs new skin. The old one started to rot."
"I know. I can smell it," Deedee said.
"We'll fix it," the man said. "I'll fix it. Just trust me."
"I trust you," Deedee said.
The man walked to Deedee's case and held his creation up in front of him. "See? I'm almost done. Just need to make sure it fits. It's like pants. I made it like pants so you can put them on."
"It looks great," Deedee said. "Help me get it on."
The man placed the leg in the case, then stuffed the bones that once were another leg, into the human-skin pants.
"There," he said, with tears in his voice. "It's perfect."
"Now I have two legs like everyone else," Deedee said.
The man nodded. "Yes, you do."
"I'm the luckiest boy in the world."
"Yes, you are. You're just like all the other boys."
"It's perfect," Deedee said
The man nodded, while holding back his tears. He grabbed his camera. "Smile, Deedee. Smile."
30
April 2014
VICTOR HAD A HARD time calming down after the photograph incident by the pool. He was restless at lunch in the restaurant and couldn't sit still on his chair. I couldn't shake what my mother had said and tried to calm him, constantly telling him to sit still. It created an annoying tension between all of us at the table. I couldn't help feeling that my mother was comparing the two boys and thinking, why couldn’t Victor couldn't be more like Christoffer, who sat nicely at the table and ate quietly?
